


Blue

by killfascination



Category: Original Work
Genre: Badasses, Bickering, Blood, Decapitation, Gore, Magic, Magic Realism, Rain, Swearing, Weapons, didn't proof read whoops, fight scene written by someone who has never even thrown a punch, gang violence (sort of), lots of blades and stabby stabs, lots of fighting, lots of swearing, magic wolf dog thing, oversimplified gang-members
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 16:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12634695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killfascination/pseuds/killfascination
Summary: No one was coming to help him.“Leave me alone!” the man yelled, more at the creature than the man who just smirked lazily.“But haven’t we been having so much fun?” he asked, stopping in place as the creature stalked forward slowly, mouth curled in a horrifying grimace. “Your buddies dropped out early, and you’re the only one left, I can’t just let you go!”





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something but had no prompts, so I google writing prompts and I found this one:
> 
> “Make a story involving an ability that’s not water or ice but is for some reason blue”
> 
> Went with it.
> 
> Also, didn't really proof-read, just said fuck it, so if you see any mistakes please let me know.
> 
> Also also, might make this a series. Who knows.

It was raining – because of course it was.

The man’s feet hit the pavement with a splash and he wiped the water from his eyes hastily, glancing behind himself every so often. His friends were all lying in fast-forming puddles a few blocks away, bleeding out or dead. No one was coming to help him.

“Motherfucker,” he gasped, seeing the eerie blue glow behind him, always just around the corner. He wove his way through back alleys and deserted streets, but still he was pursued. His jacket felt heavy on his shoulders from the fat droplets soaking into every inch of the dark fabric, and his legs felt like lead.

He thought back to the gun lying somewhere among his fallen comrades – his small switchblade was of no use now. He considered trying to loop back around and pick it up, but an unearthly snarl ripped that idea from his mind. His breath was laboured as he emerged from one particularly dingy alley, running into the middle of an empty street, one orange streetlight illuminating the uneven pavement.

Finally, he planted his feet and turned, exhausted from running, and drew his body into a loose fighting stance. The glow came closer, slowly lighting the buildings a sickening electric blue, and a snarling hellish creature – perhaps some sort of wolf – rounded the corner, translucent and iridescent body making the man blink furiously to clear his vision. The rain, though it had let up a little, was not helping his focus.

Following the creature, not five paces behind, was the dark-haired man that had approached his group earlier that evening, his pace somehow just as slackened and loose despite how long they had been playing their little game of cat and mouse.

“Leave me alone!” the man yelled, more at the creature than the man who just smirked lazily.

“But haven’t we been having so much fun?” he asked, stopping in place as the creature stalked forward slowly, mouth curled in a horrifying grimace. “Your buddies dropped out early, and you’re the only one left, I can’t just let you go!” The creature took another step closer and the man held out a hand between them.

“Look, mister-”

“Arturo,” the man said, smiling.

“Wha- okay… Arturo,” he started again. “Can you just tell your dog to, maybe, take a few steps back?” The man – Arturo – chuckled lightly and shook his head. The man backed up as the creature came closer, growling low and dangerously.

He glanced around quickly and spotted a street sign, alarm bells going off in his head. The Vaughns! They had a warehouse a few blocks close-by and his gang had struck a deal with them a while back – all he had to do was stall for a bit.

“What kind of fucking game are you playing at?” he asked, pretending to fix his jacket as he put his hand in his pocket, flipping open the burner phone inside. “Why the fuck do you want me dead?”

Arturo cocked his head and a thoughtful expression crossed his face, looking to the side. The man took that second to press and hold the ‘1’ button – the speed dial used only for emergencies.

“A better question,” started Arturo, grinning and crossing his arms. “Why should I let you live?” The man sputtered as the creature lunged forward the slightest bit. Arturo laughed. “Come on then, tell me,” he said. “Why shouldn’t I kill you?”

The man took a second to regain his defensive stance, unsure what reaction his words would receive. He pretended to think for a moment, grasping for every single extra second he could.

“I haven’t done anything to you,” he offered, counting his pauses carefully. “You haven’t even given me an answer as to why you would…” He shifted nervously. Come on guys, he thought, gritting his teeth, fucking get here and shoot this fucker already. “Could you at least tell me why you killed my guys? Why you’re chasing me?” Arturo regarded him for a moment, before shrugging.

“Why do you say you haven’t done anything to me?” he asks. “What makes you think you haven’t somehow wronged me already?”

“I don’t even fucking know you!” the man countered, voice cracking. He cleared his throat and was about to continue when the creature stopped growling and its ears perked up, vicious expression still on its face. Arturo tilted his head to the side as well – as if listening to something – then smiled wide.

“Your Vaughn fellows are almost here,” he stated, eyes glinted as he grinned widely. “Too bad the cavalry is too.” The man saw the creature look away from him to sniff the air and he took his chance.

Removing the switchblade from his pocket and flicking it open, he lunged for the creature, knife on its way to burying itself in the thing’s neck, but he didn’t even get close.

An unimaginable pain in abdomen was followed quickly by a bright light. He looked down to see a glowing blue point protruding from his middle, red blood dripping onto the street, switchblade slipping from his hand as he felt himself collapsing to the ground.

“The truth is,” Arturo stated, stepping toward him and lifting the man’s chin up to look him in the eyes blearily. “I couldn’t give two shits about you and your buddies. We had a job to do and we did it.” With that, he let go of his hold and the man crumpled completely. The blade, visibly skewering him from behind, pulsated before disappearing and letting the man’s blood to pool around him unobstructed.

“What’s the plan for the Vaughn gang,” Arturo said as a figure stepped out onto the street, tall black boots stepping carelessly in the red running towards the street drain.

“‘Thanks Elena, I’m so glad you stopped him from hurting Hyperion.’ No problem, least I could do as your goddamn back-up,” the figure said. She twirled a small blade made of blue light between her fingers and glared at him. Arturo crossed his arms.

“He wasn’t going to do him any harm,” he told her, sighing. “And besides, it doesn’t take that much energy to heal Hyperion if he gets hurt…” he finished, mumbling a little. Elena shook her head forcefully, a few dark strands of hair coming loose from her elastic.

“We are not having this conversation again,” he told him.

“Oh yeah? Says who?”

Before she could offer a rebuttal the sound of heavy footfall on concrete met their ears and Hyperion looked ready to pounce.

“They have guns,” Elena commented nonchalantly. “Couple of knives, some blunt objects, not much else.”

“Plan?” asked Arturo. The gang was only a couple blocks away.

“I’ll take of the guns and then you let Hyperion go?” she offered, gesturing to the dumpster to her left. “Hang there for a minute.” Arturo walked towards it at a leisurely pace, Hyperion at his heels, the blue creature’s ears flicking about as he listened to the approaching group.

As they rounded the corner and caught sight of their dead friend on the street, the men raised their various weapons and began unloaded their clips. Elena just sighed as the bullets whizzed past her, the air around her buzzing with energy. Unimpressed, she produced a series of short blades of light with no urgency whatsoever, sending them to strike the hearts of the men with the most powerful firearms.

“Do you even need help?” asked Arturo from his position leant against the dumpster. Elena shrugged.

“Might as well have fun,” she answered, targeting only the guns before advancing on the group who, to their credit, were holding their ground.

“Bitch!” one of the men screamed. “Fight us yourself, you pussy!” Elena’s eyes focused on the speaker before her face split into a devilish grin.

“Sounds like a great idea,” she said as she produced two long blades, each glowing blue and lighting her features as she stalked towards them. Arturo, not wanting to miss anything, walked out behind her but stayed back, petting Hyperion’s iridescent mane.

Two gang-members suddenly ran at Elena, but she blocked their small blades easily and sliced their chest open in tandem. The next few were smarter, albeit only by a little bit, and attacked her in a group of six, two of them with significantly larger blades. That being said, they hadn’t even landed a blow before she decapitated four of them in one swing and stabbed the other two in the jugular.

“Headshot,” Arturo called, making Elena chuckle.

“You’re such a child!” she called back as she slashed at a few more of gang members.

The majority of them were severely injured or dead and the rest were spitting profanities and looked scared shitless, so Elena made a quick suggestion.

“Hey Arrie,” she said, trading her long blades for a blunt staff to have some fun sparring instead of immediately cutting them down.

“Yeah,” he responded with a smile.

“I think Hyperion needs to have a little run-around,” she commented, forcing back a burly man as he tried to swipe at her. She met his every strike with a block and a hit to his nether regions – just to rile him up.

“Sure,” replied Arturo, and Hyperion jumped into the fight without a word.

Elena blocked one last move before she side-stepped, allowing Hyperion to tackle the man to the ground. He attacked the man’s neck, tearing chunks of flesh and reducing his panicked screaming to muted gargles, blood bubbling from his mouth. Elena stepped back, watching as a couple gang-members dropped their blades before taking off in a sprint.

Hyperion raised his head, blood dripping from his teeth, and lunged.

“I’ve got the runners,” Elena told Arturo, who had walked up the street to stand beside her. He nodded and Hyperion clawed at the ones left standing like statues, and they broke from their shock with cries of colourful expletives.

Elena, stepping over the bodies and taking out one stray attacker with a solid punch to the face, flicked her fingers and three tiny blades appeared on each hand. She aimed for the runners and threw the blades one by one, every single one piercing its targets skull before blinking out of existence.

“Good boy,” Arturo said when Hyperion returned to his side. “You’re such a good boy.” He bent down and scratched the underside of his snout, most of blood gone from his muzzle. Hyperion nuzzled his hand, eyes closing as he let loose a pleased woof. Elena double-checked the bodies for anyone still alive before joining the two.

“Do you want to call it in now or later?” Elena asked, prompting Arturo to pull out his phone with a sigh.

“Might as well do it now,” he replied, holding the phone to his ear. With a little smile he added, “And maybe we’ll wake her up if we’re lucky.” Elena huffed out a laugh.

“True.” Elena crossed her arms and watched as Arturo ruffled Hyperion’s glowing fur with his free hand. They only had to wait a few seconds before the call connected and he was met with a hoarse female voice.

“Fuck… what?” the voice asked. Arturo grinned.

“Bowman! Did I wake you?” he asked, feigning ignorance. He was met with a groan.

“Guess.”

“It’s done,” he told her cryptically.

“You couldn’t have told me this later?” He heard the sound of bedsheets rustling. “Like, a lot later?” Arturo made a dismissive noise.

“Nah, we wanted to call in before we forgot,” he explained. “And because extra clean-up might be necessary.” He heard another groan and an audible slap as she facepalmed. “Someone may have called the Vaughns before we could stop them.”

“The Vaughns?” she repeated exasperatedly. “No, wait. I don’t care. I’ll deal with it in the morning- afternoon- whatever, I’ll deal with it later. Now fuck off and let me sleep.” And with that she hung up and the call disconnected.

“Looks like we’re walking home,” he told Elena, grinning as he returned his phone to his pocket. She rolled her eyes at him and started walking away, fiddling with another small blade.

“What’s new.”


End file.
